


Reprise| Spencer Reid

by oddledodle



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-06
Updated: 2019-06-24
Packaged: 2020-04-11 11:47:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 17
Words: 7,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19109035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oddledodle/pseuds/oddledodle
Summary: "I can't escape. No matter what I do or who I'm with, I seem to be a magnet for the terrible things."Most people don't experience kidnapping even once in their life, but Spencer Reid is taken from his life and held against his will again- however this time, he's losing hope in his own rescue.





	1. Chapter 1

**Spencer**

I can feel the cool breeze on my skin as I get out of the car. It's dark outside. This side of town is so quiet. The only street light visible from where I'm standing is broken, and the shadows feel like they're consuming me.

I have my hand on my gun holster as I slowly walk towards the warehouse entrance. I was closest to it, and when Garcia sent out the coordinates, I said there was no time to wait for backup. JJ offered to come with me, but she was at the station and I thought it would have taken too long.

The unsub has at least one hostage in this building. All I need to do is talk him down. It can't be that hard considering I've done this hundreds of times before. Is what I'm doing stupid? Am I stupid?

I try to pick up my pace. I open the door to the warehouse and step inside, clicking on my flashlight. The inside of the warehouse is darker than it was on the street. It's mostly empty.

I see a few shelves by the walls, but if it weren't for Garcia's land deeds, I would never have guessed this was an unsub's holding grounds.

I explore the rest of the building and find nothing. Nothing. No unsub, no hostages, no evidence at all.

I'm about to call Garcia when I hear someone outside. I pull my gun out and slowly walk towards the open door that I swear I had left closed.

"Hello?" I yell. "This is special agent Spencer Reid with the FBI."

I don't hear a response, so I repeat myself, "This is Spencer Reid with the FBI. I need you to stand still and put your hands up."

When I get to the door I see a man standing in a black hoodie with the hood lowered to show his face. It's Jason Turner, the unsub. He stands at about 6'2 and his hair is shaggy and brown, matching the picture on his driver's license.

His hands are at his sides, and in the darkness I can't see if he's holding any weapons. "Put your hands up. Now," I say.

He makes eye contact with me as he slowly raises his hands. I take my handcuffs from my belt and grab one of Turner's wrists with my right hand, but he pulls me in and puts his hand over my mouth. In my panic I forget almost every self defense tactic Morgan taught me.

"Listen, Kid, and listen closely." I try to scream but no sound is coming out. Even if I could, what difference would it make? I'm in the middle of nowhere. "You're going to reach into your purse and pull out your badge and hand it to me. Then you're going to get into the drivers seat of your car and you're going to drive me somewhere. Sound good?"

He talks like he's trying to sound sweet, but it has the opposite effect. He takes his hand away, and recovering from my shock, I instinctively reach for my gun.

"No. That's not how we're goingto do this." I feel the sharp blade of a knife pressed against my neck and I resist every urge not to move. "I said take your badge out."

I reach into my messenger bag and take out my wallet. I hand it to Turner and he leads me to the SUV I drove here in. I don't like driving to begin with, but it's even worse when I'm driving with my own gun pointed at me.

I guess I'm just an unlucky person. I can't escape. No matter what I do or who I'm with, I seem to be a magnet for the terrible things. They follow me and change me as a person until I don't know how to live with myself. 

When I start to get happy again, I end up like this. In a car with a psychopath who could kill me at any moment and sleep well knowing he did.

I'm only alive because he wants something from me. What is that? Do I even want to know?

As I'm instructed to turn onto a dirt road, I realize it might be worse than I thought.


	2. Chapter 2

**Spencer**

The amygdala is the part of the brain that's responsible for processing fear. I think I've done a good job ignoring that part of my brain. My whole life has been tragedy after tragedy and I've held off my emotions like I've barely been bothered.

Right now, I am scared. I am _so_ scared. I've been a hostage. Hell, I've been kidnapped. I've been tortured. But being taken by a mentally ill individual who has multiple personalities is so much different than this. Jason Turner doesn't feel empathy. He doesn't feel emotion at all, unless he's hurting someone else.

I don't know much about what his victims went through before they died, but I know they had dozens of broken bones when they were found by the river. The cause of death was mostly starvation.

I didn't want to know what they went through, but now I may find out. I'm in a small room in a house miles from where the team will be looking for me. At least I hope they're looking for me...

The room I'm in is dark. I can't see my hand in front of my face, that's how dark it is. The ground I'm sitting on is cold cement, and if there are any windows they must be painted over.

I don't know how long I've been in here. I don't have my phone or my watch and I'm really bad at passing the time by. I can't stand up even though my legs are crampingbecause my wrist is handcuffed to something.

I thought my eyes would adjust by now, but after what feels like hours of being alone in this cold room, everything is still black. The only sound I can hear is the tapping of my foot against the ground as I wait anxiously. I'm tried, but I can't seem to sleep.

I think the worst bit of being here is that I don't know what's going to happen to me. Besides from threatening me, Turner hasn't psychically hurt me yet. Is that a good thing? Does that mean he doesn't want to hurt me?

His victims were all women. Maybe me being a man makes a difference in his sick mind? 

I miss my team.


	3. Chapter 3

**Jennifer**

"Hi! You've reached Dr. Spencer Reid, please leave a message." The same sentence has been echoing through my phone for half an hour. I've called him over and over again but it goes straight to voicemail every time. Why?

Our SUV speeds to a stop in front of the rusty warehouse. Spence's car is nowhere to be seen. I call Garcia and she picks up after two rings. "You've reached the office of supreme genius, how can I help?"

"Garcia, are there any security cameras on the warehouse Turner owns?"

"Yes there is, why do you ask?" Garcia says. I can hear the clicking of her fingers against the keyboard.

"Where are they?"

"There's only one and its form a street light. It just barely catches the front of the warehouse. Is everything okay?"

"No," I reply. "We don't know where Spencer is. He went in alone almost an hour ago and his phone is going to voicemail. His car isn't here, either. Can you pull up the footage from when he got here?"

"Uh, yeah of course!" Garcia says. She's shaky and I can tell she's worried. Aren't we all? "Okay. I can see him walking up to the front door and... I can't see him anymore. He's inside. I'll just fast forward to when he- wait."

"What is it Garcia?"

"It- it's Jason Turner. It's the unsub. He's... he's waiting outside."

"Garcia. Anything else?"

"Oh no. Oh no no no- he has Reid. Like- he's threatening him with a knife."

My heart drops to my stomach as I hear the words I was dreading.

"And now they're driving. He's gone, JJ."

"What are the plates?" I ask.

“It's Spencer's car. Like the black government one." 

I hold back tears. Spence is gone. This was an hour ago. We're at the very East edge of New York. He could be in two other states by now if he drove quickly. With the lights on, no one would dare question a government vehicle speeding down the highway.

I call Emily. "Any news?"

"He's gone. Reid is gone. He's been taken-" I begin. I take a deep breath as Emily processes what I've said.

"JJ, what?"

"That's why he hasn't gotten back to us. The unsub kidnapped him."


	4. Chapter 4

**Spencer**

I have trouble feeling much of anything, most days. I've always been like that, and when I do feel emotions I repress them. There's no reason to bother other people with how I'm feeling when things are normal.

It's hard not to feel emotion when your arm is being crushed by the blunt end of a hammer. It's hard not to be upset and angry or sad and lonely when you're all alone in a cold room with no hope. I'm sure my arm is broken in at least two places.

I haven't felt pain like this before. I've been shot, and sure, that hurt, but not like this. Nothing hurts like this.

I wish I couldn't feel it. I wish I couldn't feel anything. I wish he would just kill me.

_Why won't he just kill me?_

Turner walks into the room and my breath gets caught in my chest. What now?

In the dim light from the doorway, I can see he's holding up a camera. "Cheese," He says in a sing-songy voice. I flinch as the flash invades the darkness I've grown so accustomed to.

He closes the door with a loud bang. I let my head fall against the brick wall of the room. A groan leaves my lips, but it doesn't matter. Nothing really matters here.

I try to turn my right arm, but pain shoots through it with every small movement. I choke back a sob. It's hard to imagine anything worse.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long to update.

**Emily**

"I have a package for Emily Prentiss,"  the secretary says. He hands me a small brown box, and I take it without asking questions. It's probably evidence.

I call over Tara Lewis. "Package? Why?" Tara asks.

"I think it's for the case," I reply. It's been two days since Spencer was abducted, but without any leads all we've been able to do is sit and wait.

I grab my keys from my pocket and drag one along the tape seal on the brown box. I pull open the flaps and see a peice of binder paper that's been folded to fit neatly in the box, and a small white envelope.

Tara takes the note and starts reading it. "This has been getting boring. If you want your partner back, you need to replace him. You have until 12 AM this Thursday," Tara reads. I open the envelope and see a picture of Spencer. I can barley stomach looking at it.

"I'm gonna be sick. What is he doing to him? He looks so scared," Tara says.

"Luke!" I shout. Luke Alvez rushes over.

"What's wr-"

"Get Simmons, Garcia, Rossi, and JJ here right now," I say as steadily as I can.

"Can I ask why?"

"Just do it!" I shout.

Having to explain this to garcia was one of the worst experiences of my life. I remember when Spencer was arrested that she was ready to quit if anything happened to him.

Now we're too late. Somethings happened, and the only way we can save him is if one of takes his place.

"Can we even do that? We have a protocol," Simmons objects.

"I know we have a protocol, but I wouldn't call this a situation the FBI is prepared to handle," I say. 

"Even if we could trade, we don't know where he is!" Garcia shouts.

"Garcia is right. I think we need to work on finding Spence before we make any decisions."

"I agree with JJ," I say. "Garcia, I need you to do a deep dive into anyone that's ever been close to Jason Turner. Check their properties. 

"Was there a return address on that package?" Alvez asks.

"No, but it was postmarked in Albany. He can't be far."

"We need to find him," Garcia says tearfully, "We can't lose him. We can't."

"We will," I say, but in all honesty, I'm not sure we can. This is the only clue we've gotten, and it's because Turner deliberately mailed it to us. He got so bored of how badly we were investigating that he helped us.

"Midnight this Thursday is only three days from now. Work quickly." 

The rest of the team leaves to find somewhere they can be helpful, but JJ lingers by my desk. "Do you need something?" I ask.

"Emily, how do you stay so calm when something like this is happening?"

"Trust me, I'm hardly calm. If I start showing how scared I am then all of us will be panicking. It doesn't do any good to Spence to let that happen."

"You're right," JJ says. "..Can I see that picture?"

"Uh, yeah, sure," I say. I pull it out of the box and hand it to her.

"Emily, I'm no expert, but I think his arm is broken."

"Oh god.." I say. "We need to find him quick." 

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Spencer**

I'm afraid of the dark. Isn't that so stupid? I deal with monsters every day of my life- serial killers, narcissists, psychopaths- but what tops the list of fears for Genius Doctor Reid is the inherent absence of light.

I've never seen so much and so little at the same time- so much darkness, so little of anything else. It's unsettling to be in this room for hours at a time without seeing something that isn't darkness.

I'm starting to get used to it. Not used to it like my vision is getting better, but used to it like it's scaring me a little bit less. Maybe it's for the best that I don't know what else is in this room with me.

The dark is so much less scary when there are worse things beyond the door. Far worse things. I don't know what he'll do to me next, but I know it will be slow and painful. He's a sadist. He gets off on psychical and psychological torture. 

If I die in here, it won't be anytime soon, and he'll be sure of that. The tapping of my foot and the dripping of a faucet on the other side of the room are the only sounds I've heard in a long time.

I've never thought about death so much before. Even when I was kidnapped by Tobias Hankle twelve years go. I wasn't properly grounded; I couldn't focus on the real world long enough to feel the pain.

I can feel all of it now. No drugs, no hallucinating. I'm one hundred percent in my own body, and I fucking hate it. The only things I can feel and see and hear are the things that are actually happening to me.

I'd be okay with it if I could close my eyes and never open them again. I'm at peace with the idea of death. 


	7. Chapter 7

**Spencer**

Have you ever drowned before? Have you ever felt your lungs fill up with water because you couldn't resist the urge to take a breath?

Drowning is one of the most painful ways to die. But, I didn't die. I couldn't die. He won't let me die.

It's been hours since I felt the sensation of the cold water invading my airways, but I'm still shaking. I'm still coughing, and my breathing is still incredibly strained. The thing is, when you can't breathe, you can't scream either. Even if I could, nobody can hear me here.

I'm in the middle of fucking nowhere. I can't even fight back. I have one good arm, and even if I could throw a punch, I haven't eaten in what feels like forever. I have no strength, not like I have much normally.

I'm so tired. Tired from exhaustion, and tired from the endless pain.

Disassociation. It's the only way I've survived this. If I just pretend I'm somewhere else, anywhere else, I can forget about the pain for even just a moment.

I'm fidgeting with the handcuffs around my wrist. I thank whatever gods there are that he handcuffed my left hand and not my right. The handcuffs are digging into my skin, but it's the dullest pain I can feel. I turn my head as I hear the door open. It's Turner. 

He's holding a metal baseball bat.

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Penelope**

"It's 9 o'clock," I say. Emily looks up at me from her folder. "It's 9 o'clock. We have three hours to find Spencer."

"Garcia, I don't know what else to do. We've looked through the properties, we've checked the traffic cameras. I hate to say it, but I don't know if we'll be able to find him."

JJ slams a book shut and jumps up from her seat, and I can feel myself grasp onto a small ray of hope. "I think we've been looking at this the wrong way," she says.

"What do you mean?" Emily asks.

"Jason Turner is all about power and control, right?"

"What are you getting at, JJ?" Rossi asks.

"What if he didn't rent property in a friend or family's name, but his victim's?" 

"I don't know. It's a stretch," Tara responds.

"Look, it's all we've got. Garcia, can you check Allie Cooper's properties? If he was going to use a victim, he'd use his first."

"On it," I reply, opening my laptop. I pull up the data base that has the information I'll need. "She has two properties in her name.. that would be her house, and an above-ground bomb shelter. That has to be it, right? Why would she have a bomb shelter?"

"Where is the bomb shelter?" Luke asks.

"One second- Albany."

"We can be there in an hour. Let's go," Emily smiles.

"Oh my gosh, this is amazing," I say.

Being a tech, I'm not used to being in the field. I'm more of a floral dress girl than an FBI vest one, but I'll do anything if it means Spence has a better chance.

I hope he isn't hurt too badly. Is that dumb of me to hope for? He might not even be alive. I just don't want to see him in pain, if that makes any sense.

The car ride to Albany is quiet. Everybody is off in their own minds, wondering the same thing I am, are we ever going to get him back?

Even if he survives this, will he be the same person we knew before?

He's been through so much. I hope this isn't what makes us lose him for good.

I don't think I could handle losing Spencer. It would break me.

I almost manage to tune out the siren with my own thoughts, but I hear the engine stop and I get out of the car. Emily puts a hand on my shoulder. "You don't have to go in if you don't want to," she says comfortingly.

"I need to do this," I say. "Reid needs all of us."

Emily nods, and she hands me a gun. I take it from her like I know how to use it. I don't, but I think a gun in my hands is more for intimidation than self-defense.

We are about to get to the front porch. I check the time- 9:53. We aren't late, so if what was written in that letter was truthful, Spencer should be okay, right?

We're about to open to the door when the knob turns from the inside. Jason Turner steps out, and I try to control my breathing like I'm not panicking.

"You remember the deal. Who will take his place?" Emily looks back at me and I freeze. I had completely forgotten about the sour end of the deal.

JJ raises her hand. "I volunteer."

Jason Turner looks at her like she's a new Barbie to play with. I don't know what I'm supposed to do. This wasn't part of the plan.

Turner reaches out an open palm towards JJ, and she hands him her gun. When he grabs at her wrist, JJ pulls a knife from its sheath on her belt and points it at him.

"Which room is he in?" She asks demandingly. I point my gun at his head, but I don't plan on shooting. I've only shot a gun once before in my whole life, and there wasn't an innocent person right next to my target.

"Down the hall to the left," he says. He sounds unfazed, and he probably is. When he reaches for JJ's throat, I flinch as I hear the shots fired.

"He's dead," Luke says after checking Turner's pulse. "Let's move."


	9. Chapter 9

**Jennifer**

The paramedics are wheeling Spencer into an ambulance. I hold Emily's hand as I watch in a state of.. shock.

He's bleeding out. That's what the paramedics said when I asked them how he was doing. Normally they would let us ride in the ambulance, but his condition is critical.

I was right. His arm is broken, practically crushed. He's coughing up blood, and he was stabbed. Six times. A few of his ribs are broken, as if it couldn't get worse.

I really wish I hadn't asked the paramedics how he was doing.

We're going to meet him at the hospital. He's going into surgery as soon as he gets there, so it may be hours before we can see him.

"It's worse than I thought it would be," Emily says, breaking the trend of silence. "He has to be okay. He's Spencer. He's resilient."

"He had him for five days," I say. My speech is choppy and I'm trying my best not to cry. "Five days. I can only imagine what he went through."

"Let's get going," Simmons suggests. "The sooner we get there, the sooner we get an update."

"You're right," I sniffle.

When we arrive, I remember how Spencer said he hated hospitals. "It's something about the lighting." He'll probably be here for a while. He'll hate it. 

Garcia is already stockpiling jello for when he can eat it. She stacks the jello into a pyramid, and I laugh a little when it topples over.

A woman in scrubs approaches us, and I sit up straight in anticipation. "Are you here for Spencer Reid?" She asks.

"Yes," Emily replies.

"He's stable. There was internal bleeding and he had fluid in his lungs, but we managed to repair the damage. He lost a lot of blood, so he's incredibly lucky to be alive. He's in room 316 on the third floor."

"Oh thank god," I say. I thank her again before she leaves.

"He's okay?" Garcia asks, looking up from her pile of jello.

"He's okay." I smile and I hug her. I really thought Spencer could have died. I was so worried. 

Spencer is okay.

 


	10. Chapter 10

**Emily**

"Emily, wake up," I hear. I groan and open my eyes. "Reid's waking up!"

It's Garcia. Finally having processed what she said, I rub my eyes and look over at Spencer's bed.

She was right. I see Spencer is squinting at the bright lights, and I feel a small tinge of relief knowing he made it through the night.

"Hey, Spence," JJ says softly. She's smiling, but I don't think Spencer registered what she said.

Spencer reaches his casted arm over to his other one and starts yanking at his IV. "Spence what are you doing?" I ask.

"I don't want drugs," he mutters.

"There's no pain medication in there!" I shout, "It's just saline! I promise." Spencer still tries to pull out his IV. JJ gently pulls his arm back, and he gives up. 

I see JJ look at me with concern in her eyes. He's probably just loopy from the anesthesia, I mouth at JJ.

Garcia pulls the rolling tray over Spencer's bed that's piled full of jello. "You need to eat something."

"I'm not hungry," he almost whispers.

"Hey.." I say. I take his hand in mine and gently squeeze it. "You're safe now."

"Why don't I feel safe?" He asks.

Garcia is texting the rest of the team to head to the hospital. I'm trying to find the right words to say, but it's proving difficult. What do you say to someone who's been through what he has?

"You don't have to try so hard," he says. I give him a confused look, and he continues. "You're pretending. You're pretending to know what I've been through to make yourself feel better." 

"Spencer, I'm so sorry," Garcia ays. "I wish I could find a way to help."

"It's okay," Spencer says, "I'm okay." He's lying. I can tell he's lying, but what am I supposed to do? I can't help him. I don't know how.

"It's okay not to be okay," I say after an awkward silence. Spencer turns his head to look at me. "No one expects you to be fine after what you've been through."

"He-" Spencer tries to say, but he can't finish. He's crying.

I've seen Spencer cry before, but this is somehow different. It's not just tears; he can't speak.

 

He's broken.


	11. Chapter eleven

**Tara**

Emily pulls me aside, just outside the doors to Spencer's hospital room.

"Tara, I need you to do something for me, and it's not going to be easy," she says.

"Anything. What is it?"

Emily sighs. "I need you to get Reid's statement on what happened. I mean-" she's clearly having trouble choosing the right words, "Just what happened before he was taken. This sounds really bad.."

"You're asking me to have him relive what happened. It hasn't even been twelve hours," I say, appalled.

"I know- I hate this too, but Cruz wants a report. He just needs to know how an FBI agent was kidnapped on the job. It's protocol."

"Just before the kidnapping, right? I don't have to bring up anything that happened after that?" I ask. Emily nods. "Why are you asking me?"

"I just feel like you're the best person for this." I don't know if I should feel like I've been complimented, but I don't. I really don't want to do this.

We've been tiptoeing around the topic of what happened when he was in captivity for the whole time he's been awake. He hasn't yet talked about it in any specificity, and if his kidnapping makes its way into conversation he finds a way to avoid it.

He's traumatized, but I can't blame him.

"I'll try, but no promises."

"Thank you," emily says. She's clearly been stressing about this. She hands me a clipboard and I take it.

I slide open the door to Spencer's room where he's talking to Rossi. Rossi sees me holding a clipboard and he already knows what's about to happen. He leaves and I sit in the chair next to Spencer's bed.

"What's wrong?" He asks.

"Nothings wrong. I just need to ask you a few questions about what happened, if you're up to it," I say.

"Fine," he replies.

"If you're uncomfortable at any point-"

"I'll be fine," he says flatly.

"Uh, okay," I say. I look down at the notes Emily gave to me, and I try to think of a good way to word my first question, "Why did you decide to go in without backup?"

I can already tell Spencer doesn't like this. "Because I'm arrogant. I thought I could handle it by myself because I thought I was smarter than him. I thought that was enough."

"You're not arrogant," I say.

"Just ask the next question." His words come out sharp, like he feels the need to defend everything he says.

"We can stop-" I begin, but Spencer cuts me off.

"I don't need to stop," he says. He's bordering on shouting.

"You're squeezing your wrist," I say. The whole time I've been talking, he's been squeezing left arm with his right as a way to relieve his stress.

"What?"

"We can do this later," I say, and I stand up and head for the door.

"Tara, can you listen to me for more than thirty seconds without profiling me?" Normally I wouldn't let people talk to me like this, but in this state Spencer gets a pass.

I ignore him and leave the room, strolling over to Emily Prentiss and handing her the clipboard. "I'm not doing this."

"I'm sorry, is he okay?" Emily asks.

"We got through one question before he started to panic. I'll try again if you want me to, but I'm not talking about this with him again for at least a week."

"That's perfectly understandable. I shouldn't have asked you to do that, I'm sorry."

"Look, I get it. It's okay. He'll be better in time."

"I guess I still kind of blame myself," Emily says. "What kind of a unit chief am I? I let him go in alone. I let him do that."

"It's not your fault. The only person we can reasonably blame is Jason Turner."

"You're right," Emily says. "I think I have an idea."


	12. Chapter twelve

**Spencer**

I can still feel it. I can still feel him stabbing me.

I know it isn't an excuse for how badly I've been treating my team, but it's the one that I'm using.

When he got bored of holding my head underwater, he decided to stab me. He said he'd never done it before; that I was his first.

The surgeon said I was lucky to be alive. I disagree.

I wish I had died. I wish I had bled out, or that my team found me even thirty minutes later and it was too late to save me.

I remember when Elle Greenaway was shot. I told her that being scared was irrational, because the man who shot her was dead.

I get it now. I'm worried that the moment I leave this room, it'll happen all over again. Every time I shut my eyes I see him. I see his sick, twisted smile as he's torturing me. I see the cold water that he drowned me in. I see the hammer, and I see the knife.

I feel the pain whenever I think about it. Will that feeling ever go away? Sure, I'm free. I lived. But I don't feel free.

I still feel trapped. I still feel empty.

It's been two weeks since my surgery, and though my doctors aren't happy about it, I've decided I'm going home later today. I don't want to be in this building for another second. Emily is telling me it's a bad idea, but I know what I need is to be back at home, in normal clothes with normal food.

Emily knocks on my door, and I mumble a "come in".

"I have a surprise for you," she says, smiling. 

"What? Why?" I ask. 

I see Derek Morgan entering my room. "Oh my gosh, Kid, what happened?"

"Morgan?" I ask. I haven't seen him in so long. "What are you doing here?"

"Emily called me. Are you okay?"

"I've been better," I say. 

As surprised as I am to see Morgan, our conversations all blend together. I should be ecstatic, but I feel numb.

I want to be happy again. Will I ever be happy again?


	13. Chapter thirteen

**Spencer**

The dark. I'm afraid of the dark.

Last night when I went to sleep, I left the lights on. I couldn't sleep, but I pretended to. I thought it would work; that I couldn't just stay awake all night, but that's what happened.

I haven't slept in so long. Today is Friday. I'll be requesting reinstatement to the BAU. Emily is worried that they won't let me back. She didn't tell me herself, but I heard.

I still haven't finished the report with Tara. I hate to admit it, but she was right. I can't think about what happened without panicking.

It's 7 AM and I start to get ready for work. It feels nice to be in layers of clothing like I'm used to rather than a thin hospital gown.

I take a train to the FBI Academy like I usually do, trying my best to act like things are normal. I'm about to open the door to the building when Emily jogs up behind me. "Spence!"

I flinch and turn around. "What? Did something happen?"

"Come with me. We have something to give back to you."

I follow Emily without a clue what she's talking about. She takes me to a closet full of evidence boxes. I see Jason Turner's name on a few of them, and I can't help but squeeze the cast on my right arm, which is in a sling.

She opens a box and pulls out a smaller one. It's a shoebox that he clearly didn't care much for- it's ripping at the sides and the lid has water damage on it. She pulls the lid off and hands me my wallet. "He.. he put it in a box of his trophies. Your badge is fine, and he didn't mess with anything in you wallet as far as I know."

I wonder what twisted in her mind to think saying that was okay. "He wasn't concerned with my cash," I mutter. I shove my wallet into my bag and head towards Matt Cruz's office.

-

"Look, Reid. I know you aren't fine like you say you are. You work in a department full of experts in psychology. If you think you're fooling anyone, you're mistaken. If you think you're ready to come back to work, though, you're welcome back any time."

I'm surprised. "Really?"

"I trust your judgment. As long as you think you can do your job, I believe you."

Am I ready to go back to work?

I don't think so. But what else is there for me to do? I can't sit at home all day. Two weeks was more than enough.

I'll be fine. 


	14. Chapter fourteen

**Spencer**

I sleep with a gun on my nightstand. It might be dumb, but if someone is to enter my apartment without permission, I have a way to defend myself.

Tonight, I'm glad I sleep with a gun on my nightstand. I wake up to the sound of walking in the hallway. I can feel my heart rate skyrocket as I feel around for my gun. I finally grasp it with my left hand and sit up, pointing it at my doorway. I should say something, but I'm panicking. I'm not great at working under pressure.

I see the door knob jiggle and I can feel my left hand shaking. I have my finger on the trigger, and I'm ready to pull it.

"Get out!" I scream. "Or I'll shoot!"

"Spence!" JJ yells when the door is open. "It's just me!"

I put the gun down and try to calm myself, but it's not working. "What the hell are you doing here in the middle of the night?" I ask, but it's more of a panicked shout.

"It's 8 in the morning," JJ says. 

"Shit," I mumble. I stumble out of my bed and pull the curtains to see the sun shining through my window. With the lights on and the curtains drawn, I couldn't tell it was actually light outside. "You're thirty minutes late. Emily was worried, so she asked me to come over because she knows I have a key."

"I'm sorry," I say. "I thought you were-"

"Turner," JJ finishes my sentence. We stand parallel to each other in a mutual silence. 

"Spencer, he's dead. If anyone was going to break into your apartment, it wouldn't be him."

"That wasn't funny," I say.

"Sorry," JJ mumbles. Normally JJ and I make darker jokes around eachother, but now I'm failing to find humor in them.

"I wonder why my alarm didn't go off," I say, changing the subject.

"Unless you're planning on coming to work in sweatpants, I'll leave you to get ready," JJ jokes.

"Thanks," I mutter sarcastically. She leaves and locks the door on the way out. I sit down on the end of my bed and hold my hand over my chest, trying to slow down my breathing.

I thought I was going to die. I _know_ JJ has a key.

She's stopped by before without telling me, even in the actual middle of the night. I don't think I've ever been this paranoid in my entire life.

I believe I'm doing a good job pretending I'm feeling better.

I wish I didn't have to pretend.


	15. Chapter fifteen

**Jennifer**

Spencer is working with us on the first case we've had since his kidnapping. He came in half an hour after he almost shot me in his apartment.

That sounds weird. Well, it _was_ weird. I've never seen him act like this before. He was ready to shoot me without a second thought. To be fair, I probably should have knocked, but I didn't expect him to be asleep.

I don't think he trusts us anymore. I honestly think he blames us for what happened to him.

I don't even know what happened to him. He won't talk about it himself, and I've been too scared to ask because it could make everything worse.

Is it bad that I want to understand his pain? I want to know what he went through. I want to know what it was like so he doesn't feel so alone.

He's isolating himself. He won't talk to us about anything unless we talk to him first. When we showed him the crime scene photos, he said he needed to use the restroom. I saw him standing in the hallway, trying not to cry.

He's not ready to be here, but Spencer Reid is as stubborn as they come. If he has his mind set on something, he won't let it go, even if it destroys him. And this- this is destroying him.

I don't think Matt Cruz was right. Spencer's judgment isn't in tact. He's making irrational decisions that could easily get him hurt.

The case we're working is the case of a serial-killer gone hostage-taker. He killed four victims in separate bank robberies before he took eight random people in as hostages. Because of his diagnosed narcissistic personality disorder, the local police called us.

Spencer isn't ready for this.

We're putting on our FBI bullet-proof vests and making small conversation. As soon as Spencer finishes putting on his vest, I see him walk towards the door of the bank.

"Spence, what are you doing?" I ask. "You aren't even supposed to be in the field. Arm, remember?"

He turns off the safety on his gun, and puts his hand on the door to the bank. "Saving the hostages."

"No you are _not_. You aren't exempt from the rules because something bad happened to you." I grab his hand, but he flinches back.

"You think I'm ignoring protocol for the hell of it? We _followed_ protocol and I was _tortured_. I've gone over it thousands of times in my head, and you know what?? I realized something. I did _everything_ right." I stand in a stunned silence, and he continues.

"JJ, he drowned me. I was coughing up blood because there was water in my lungs, and you know, none of that would have happened if Emily hadn't told me I'd be fine alone. So yeah. Fuck. Protocol."

I don't have time to process what he's said, because the door to the bank inwardly flies opens, causing Spencer to stumble over into the bank.

The unsub grabs Spencer by the throat and puts his gun to Spencer's head. I immediately draw my gun and look at Spencer. He doesn't look scared- he looks relieved.

"Do it!!" Spencer shouts. "Just shoot me!"

I point my gun at the unsub. "If you hurt him, we'll kill you," I say. He's a narcissist. He doesn't care if he dies if it means he gets another victim. The rest of the hostages are filed out of the bank through the back door, meaning it's just Spencer, me, and the unsub.

I swear the world is moving in slow motion when I hear the loud ringing of a gunshot.

I instinctually close my eyes, but when I open them, I'm beyond relieved to see the unsub is dead. A member of the S.W.A.T. team gives me a thumbs up from across the parking lot. How he got a clean shot, I don't know.

I pull Reid close and hug him like it's the last time. "Spence.. I'm so sorry."

"It's okay," he says. He hugs me back, but it feels artificial.

This is when it starts to hit me: He told the unsub to shoot him.


	16. Chapter sixteen

**Jennifer**

It's just me and Spence in the SUV ride back to the station. I'm driving, and Spence is sitting silently in the passengers seat.

I need to say something. I've gone too long without confronting him. What he did was so reckless. What he did could have killed every person in that room.

If I were Emily, and he weren't Spencer, I would fire him.

"Spencer," I say to get his attention.

"Hm?" He takes a break from staring absentmindedly out the window. 

"Truth or dare?" I ask.

"Dare," Spencer says, contrary to what he said last time we were in this situation.

I pull over the SUV and put it in park.

"Talk to me," I say. "You can't just bottle everything up. It's not healthy"

And to my surprise, he does. He explains everything- his newfound paranoia, the flashbacks, the nightmares.

He tells me that he first wished he was dead when his arm was broken, and that was day two. 

The whole time we're talking, I'm trying my best not to break down. Even just hearing about what he experienced is making me sick.

When he's finished talking, I try to find words that will do what he's said even the tiniest sliver of justice.

"Spencer, you're so incredibly brave," I say with a smile. "You survived. You survived what the rest of his victims couldn't." Spencer makes a face when I say "victim" and I bite my tongue.

"I survived because he wanted to use me as a way to get into your heads. He changed his whole MO to mess with you in some sick game," he seethes.

"Spencer, your arm will heal. Your scars will too, in enough time. But you can't expect your trauma to just.. disappear. It won't. You can't pretend it didn't happen because that isn't going to make it any better."

Spencer wipes a tear from his face. "Let's head back to the station, sound good?" I say.

"Yeah," he says quietly. "Sounds good."


	17. Chapter seventeen (epilogue)

**Spencer**

JJ is my best friend.

She's been by my side through everything, and without her I'd certainly be dead.

There are so many times where I'd done something stupid because I'd been arrogant; because I'd been snarky, and thought I was better than everyone else due to my impressive intellect.

But in the end, my intelligence means nothing. It means I can do a math problem better than the person next to me, but when it comes down to what's actually important.. I'm utterly screwed.

I thought I could do it by myself. I thought I could prove myself to the rest of my team by making an arrest without any help.

But the ideal outcome of my team seeing me as more than a brain with a mop of curly hair wasn't what happened.

I ruined myself again. I got into trouble and I don't know if I'll ever recover.

I still don't know what I've learned from this. Was I supposed to have learned something from this?

Emily placed me on a mandatory three-week sabbatical. I'm grateful she didn't fire me, but I still feel numb.

I guess I'm just an unlucky person. I can't escape. No matter what I do or who I'm with, I seem to be a magnet for the terrible things. They follow me and change me as a person until I don't know how to live with myself.

I don't want this to be the end of my story: me spiraling and losing myself all over again.

I need to try to find a way to live with myself, before these scars become all I know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed!


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